Draw Color
by Nathaniel Lent
Summary: A young huntress in training with a reputation. Unnoticed to number one in a matter of weeks. What's to stop her besides herself?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Never Winning

 _Clang!_

' _Darn!'_

The screeching sounds of metal scraping metal echoed through the room, it's lack of occupants only serving to amplify the racket. Two figures stood, their weapons locked together before one disengaged and ran away. It was clear however, that it wouldn't be so simple to escape.

 _BANG_

Fire blossomed outwards as an explosive shell burst into hundreds of pieces of sharp shrapnel that burst out, each packing more than enough punch to sink several centimeters into anything that wasn't metal. Any respite however, was sorely lacking, as the attacker quickly swung again in what resembled a baseball swing.

' _It just never ends!'_

Several more ear-shattering bangs echoed through the room, the interval between each blast growing shorter and shorter. Each explosion getting just a bit closer towards the small girl in white that they were aimed towards, the latest of which blew her black hair into her face.

Narrowing her eyes, the somewhat diminutive figure struggled to see through the debris, barely managing to make out the blurry shape of another human rushing towards her. Instantly, her own weapon was raised in response in order to block the incoming strike.

 _CLANG!_

Another shriek of her opponent's weapon, a large mace, smashing against her own training sword borrowed from the school. Her opponent's weapon was one that had been forged by themselves, something that, when compared to the standard issue sword that she was using, may as well have been comparing a bullet to a missile.

She skidded along the ground, pushed back by the amount of force contained in the strike. It seemed that she was destined to be on the defensive. Every strike only led into another; an unrelenting offense that would keep anyone on their toes.

Unfortunately for the smaller girl, she was no exception to this rule.

And it was only a matter of time before…

"TIME!" A deep voice called out the signal to stop, a loud alarm sounding at the same moment.

"Amelia Stark vs Yulia Cless. Result: Draw." The monotone robotic voice of the PA system announced the results of the match over the now calming rumble of dust and debris falling to the ground.

"Ms. Stark, you may store your weapon in the lockers provided by the school. Ms. Cless, please be sure to return yours to me before the period ends."

Breathing a sigh of relief, the girl slid the practice sword into the sheath that hung at her waist as she made her way over to the professor that had been overseeing the match, glad to finally be rid of the unwieldy feeling the weapon left in her hands.

Handing over the sword to the professor, Yulia was acutely aware of the few gazes that seemed to follow her the entire way. These were not however, gazes of admiration or appreciation that observed the girl right down to the way she walked.

The PA system once again blared to life as a circular outline of where Yulia and her opponent had been fighting, lit up. "The next pair of students may proceed to make their way down to the field. Please be sure to complete all necessary preparations before stepping into the designated area. Please note that this will be the last match of the day."

It was then that the number of stares that followed the young woman multiplied, many of these pairs of eyes doing a double take between the large monitor that overlooked the area and Yulia before settling once again on her.

0/0/5

Win/Lose/Draw

Acutely aware of the amount of attention that was now focused on her, Yulia increased her pace as much as possible without actually breaking into a jog. In front of so many eyes, it wouldn't be strange for grown adults to feel some degree of nervousness, let alone a young girl who had yet to even make her way out into the real world.

"...can't believe…"

"...how?"

Wincing internally, Yulia could only pretend she didn't hear anything as she finally made her way into the locker room. She already recognized the pattern that things were going to follow. It was always the whispers first, the quiet harmless murmurings of those around her that would begin the cycle that she had lived through.

' _I don't want things to end up the same way, but...'_

Signal Academy was not only one of the most prestigious combat academy's in the kingdom of Vale, but the third that Yulia had attended in the past year. One semester each at two other combat schools, each accredited in their own right. Of course, given this, the problem hadn't been the quality of education; in fact, that was probably the only part of her school history that Yulia didn't find unbearable.

"#1 Weakest." The moniker passed through Yulia's lips with no small amount of grievance. Ranking in combat schools was based on a point system, + 2 points for winning, - 2 points for losing, and + 1 point for a draw. As cruel as it sounded, the point system weeded out those who would be insufficiently skilled to be put into missions in the field.

The fairly subtle problem however, was that by continuously obtaining draws, one would eventually rise to the top by sheer virtue of never losing points. Of course, the designers of the system had never thought of such a small chink in the system as a problem. Anyone with the ability to obtain consecutive draws, they reasoned, would be similarly skilled enough to easily obtain wins.

And so we were left with Yulia's current predicament; with no suitable weapon to end a match, but unable to be struck as well, it was inevitable that she would obtain the coveted #1 spot… with nothing but draws. Obtaining the ire of her peers, Yulia suffered no small amount of name calling and general bullying that came with the anger of others. Without a single friend to turn to, there was no way that a 15 year old girl could remain unaffected.

No matter how she felt however, there wasn't much to do about it now. Certainly not without any plans or people to rely on, and certainly not while the rather uncomfortable sensation of her white cardigan stuck to the back of her legs remained a rather irritating distraction.

Starting with said article of clothing, Yulia stripped off the remainder of her now sweaty and dusty outfit. Shortly following a pair of light blue shorts and a similarly colored shirt joining the cardigan, Yulia changed into the school uniform. Similarly to its sister school, Beacon, Signal Academy's female uniform consisted of a short skirt, blouse, and vest; the defining difference being the coloration of the two uniforms. While Beacon used a plaid red skirt, Signal's was brown. Similarly, Signal's vest was red, while the color of the blouse stayed the same.

Tossing her soiled clothes into a bag to later be washed, Yulia closed her locker with a resounding bang. The sound was, unfortunately, not enough to muffle what came after.

"Did you see that scoreline? What's with her?" It seemed that the following match had ended rather quickly, with the rest of the class flowing into the room. The discussion however, was not about the match they had just seen, but rather, the display that had come up following the match.

Sighing in resignation of her situation, Yulia held her head down, eyes directed towards her shoes as she exited the locker room.

Thankfully, sparring was always the last class of the day, simply due to the nature of the course and it's tendency to exhaust student's. This of course, left the rest of the day for students to spend as they wished.

 _'Getting started on assignments may help, it's never too soon… no.'_ Yulia threw the idea out almost as soon as she considered it. Though she was a decent student, the girl wasn't much of a book worm. Drowning her sorrows in work hadn't had much effect the last time she had tried it either.

 _'Exercise? No… we just finished sparring…'_

Lost in her own thoughts, Yulia failed to notice that she was rapidly closing in on someone's backside. The result was a rather embarrassing collision where, predictably, the shorter girl tripped backwards and fell.

As if mocking her, the only way you would have known that she had even impacted the taller figure in front of her was if you had seen it; the person had barely moved whatsoever, and gave no sign that he and even noticed the girl.

"S-Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going!" Ignoring the growing pain in her lower back from her brief introduction to the floor, Yulia managed to muster up an apology as she clambered up from the ground.

"…"

Well, at least this time the person turned around. Yulia could now see that it was a middle-aged man with his hair gelled back and a noticeable 5-o'clock shadow. His most noteworthy feature however, had to be the sour scent of alcohol that seemed to follow the man around.

"Are you… alright?" Once more, Yulia tried to reconcile.

The dead stare she received was answer enough. On the other hand, it did let her observe him a little more. It was uncanny how the man seemed to be able to appear neatly dressed and sloppy at the same time. Eventually though, the lack of reply grew to be almost unbearable.

Just when Yulia was at her wit's end, thinking she would be forever doomed to continue the awkward silence, the man finally spoke. His words were hardly the ones she wanted to hear.

"You… you're the girl who does nothing but tie her practice matches."

Yulia felt her blood turn to ice, a tingle running down her spine as her gaze went from from slightly agitated, to full blown nervous. Something that, unfortunately, didn't escape the person in front of her.

"There a reason you throw all the matches girl?" The question was brusque, and completely without a care in the world about how the receiver felt about it.

"What- what do you mean?"

Finally amused, the other man finally let a small smirk grace his features. "Come now, even if I wasn't an educator, not that I'm a very good one mind you, there aren't many ways that a student can manage a year and a half of straight ties Yulia Cless."

If she had been nervous before, Yulia was now completely terrified; her eyes widened in panic as she stared at the man in front of her.

How, how did he know?!

"Hey, calm down Wei- Whitey, there's nothing wrong with getting a draw." He threw a hand behind him, palm facing up as he shrugged. "Just thought you ought to do better."

"I- think I'm doing fine right now Professor…" Yulia paused, realizing she didn't know the other's name. She also answered her own question.

 _'Of course he knows, he's a professor…'_

"You know what? Follow me." After remaining in a what could be described as pensive position for a moment, the other person in the hallway finally spoke. He had completely ignored her.

"But professor-"

"Hey, you kids don't have classes for the rest of today. Just come along, it won't get in the way of any of your plans. It'll be quick." The man stopped for a moment, his face screwed up in thought before waving his hand and adding: "...and possibly painful. Not too painful though."

She didn't like the sound of that, but what choice did she have? The guy was already moving and, with every step, Yulia could feel her the uncomfortable knot in her chest get just a bit tighter.

"What are we going to be doing Professor?" While she didn't hold much hope that the older man would answer, it was simply unbearable to follow in silence.

He gave her a small smirk before answering in his sandpaper-like voice. "Just going to have some fun." A sharp glint shone in his eyes, not unlike the look that Yulia had received from her opponents. Suddenly, she didn't need the professor to tell her anything anymore. She already had the answer.

They were heading back along the path she had come from.

Back to the sparring arena.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Blues, Blue

Yulia stood on one end of the large gymnasium, almost arena, that she had been in nearly an hour prior. The practice sword in her hand felt no less unwieldy than it had on the previous occasion either.

"Prof-" Before she could even finish her inquiry, Yulia was quickly silenced by the other person in the room holding a finger up. She felt rather frustrated to be stubbed by a person who was currently taking a swig of something, alcohol in all likelihood, while not even looking at her. Of course, the excessively large broadsword in his hand made it difficult to ignore his otherwise laughable disposition.

Professor Qrow Branwen.

While she had been too panicked to make note of it earlier, the sudden appearance of the professor's rather unique weapon and… disposition, had been more than enough to jot Yulia's memory.

The man was known to be promiscuous with alcohol at best, and a blackout drunk at worst. And yet, he somehow managed to retain not only a position at Signal, but a reputation as one of the greatest combatants and hunters in generations. His mastery with a scythe was said to be second to none; an expert at the apex of his craft.

Though all of this was verified public knowledge, it was rather difficult for the young woman to accept such things when looking at the man in front of her.

"Hah…" As if provoking her, a small sigh escaped Qrow's lips, accompanied by a look towards his now inverted empty flask. "Well, quiet down little girl." A smirk graced his lip as he spoke.

"All we'll be doing is a little sparring. You have a weapon, I don't." Stowing away his flask in a bag that was attached to his belt. "Fair enough right?"

The hell it was…!

Qrow was widely accepted as one of the best hunters in the field; years of experience backing the man's formidable strength. Multiple elite soldiers were unable to do so much as to make him break a sweat. Hundreds of grimm fell under his scythe every year, his mettle tested by real battles and hardship.

And who was she?

An insignificant student, untested in true combat. Only 15 years of age and in her 1st year at Signal Academy, struggling to catch up in time for her second year by taking summer courses. Not only this, she had never once truly defeated an opponent in her ranking matches.

Fair?

Of course it wasn't!

It would be clear to anyone who had any scope on their abilities that there could only be one result if Qrow seriously tried to win.

"Hurry it up now… we don't have all day." Qrow swept his arms up in mock exasperation, the sword that had been in his hands now stowed in the sheath behind his back.

' _Well.. nothing for it I suppose.'_ Ignoring her misgivings, Yulia moved forward, the practice sword brought up in preparation for a quick slash. As she closed in, Qrow didn't even move an inch. The man simply stared at her as if she was some mildly interesting television show.

Then he dashed- no, disappeared would be the correct terminology here. The man simply removed himself from Yulia's vision so quickly that, had she not known better, would've had her guessing if he had become invisible or not.

"That was rather uninspired." The voice sounded out from behind Yulia as her slash cleaved empty air. She turned around to find Qrow standing several meters away.

Frowning, she moved forward again, the raven-haired girl paying no attention to her opponent's taunt. She focused on the other's movement as she made a second attempt to strike him. Once more, he was impossibly fast; disappearing from her sightline in a blur as soon as she got close enough to make the swing.

"Y'know, I thought that number one would've been a little more impressive, even if you're in training." Qrow lazily remarked from his position that was, once again, across the gym. "Looks like you barely know how to hit someone though, much less swing that weapon in your hands."

Yulia flinched slightly, unable to maintain a facade in front of such a direct criticism. When she saw Qrow's eyes narrow, it was indication enough.

He knew.

An indescribable fury rose within her as this revelation made itself apparent. This was always how it started.

"Shut up." Her voice was monotone as she struck again. This time, when she closed in, she didn't intend to swing.

This time he didn't disappear from her sight. He was still quick to the point where, if Yulia hadn't been focusing all her attention on him, she would've missed him.

But he didn't disappear this time, and that was what mattered when Yulia pivoted on her right foot, bounding after Qrow's retreating form. No small amount of vindictive satisfaction filled her when Yulia saw the professor's face finally show a bit of surprise. Anything besides the infuriating nonchalant arrogance was welcome.

"Still too slow." Before she could even completely realize what had happened, Yulia felt a force slam into her back. "Not bad, but maybe next time."

The kick that Qrow had landed on her back sent Yulia careening across the floor before she finally managed to push herself off the ground and onto her feet, sliding a distance with her boots screeching on the floor.

Not again. It wouldn't happen again. She didn't want it to happen, couldn't allow it to happen!

Even as she stood, Yulia knew that her muscles would hurt tomorrow morning.

Right now though? She couldn't care less.

Once more she soared across the arena, her hands now almost painful as she gripped the practice sword tightly. It was amateurish, foolish, and downright stupid to lose her cool like she had now

"Yulia Cless, 14 years old. Number one student in terms of combat at Leer." Qrow recited as if he had practiced off a script.

Shut up. She missed.

"Number one student in terms of combat at Section."

Shut up! The actions were almost choreographed at this point, the same swing, miss, and kick sending one figure across the arena and another to continue speaking.

"Number one student in terms of combat at Legion."

SHUT UP.

Yulia's breath came in huffs, her back now stung heavily from all the punishment it had suffered. Her vision was already dipping in and out, black spots flashing in front of her eyes.

"Total record over 1 year of schooling at 3 of the top combat schools in the world, 0/0/50. 50 matches and 50 perfect draws. Now where's the fun in that?"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" It was illogical, losing herself so easily at the statement of a few facts. She struck out with abandon, adrenaline filling her veins as she swept once more across the arena.

"AAHHH!" A hoarse scream left her mouth as she made a once last ditch attempt to strike Qrow.

The practice weapon in her hands was shredded to pieces as a wall of steel went straight through it without so much as a thought. Qrow's massive weapon having made an appearance at last.

"You…" Qrow shook his head as he spoke. "You're not cut out to be a huntress."

Muscles screaming at her to stop, sweat running in rivers down her body, it was the last thing Yulia heard before her exhausted mind gave out to the sweet blackness of unconsciousness.

\- Break -

Reel Ashe had not had the best week. Then again, it was hard to have a good time when you were in summer school for failing out of a single class during the regular year. It hadn't even been his fault… mostly.

Brushing some imaginary dust out of his blue hair, Reel gave a heavy sigh as he made his way through the school. Sparring had been a bore, as per usual, with half the students barely knowing how to hold their weapon correctly. Then again, it did make sense seeing as how summer school was mostly for those who failed to pass during the typical school year.

Academically, many would find the curriculum for a hunter or huntress in training manageable, if slightly difficult. What many people would stumble on would be the combat portion. Going from the physique of the normal citizen to the near super-human capabilities of a hunter took no small amount of effort; for some, it was simply not possible.

It was for this reason that so few ever managed to graduate from the prestigious hunter institutions that trained those who protected humanity. Not that many had the courage to attempt to do so in the first place.

In any case, his summer school, which consisted of a grand total of one class, left Reel bored out of his mind. Though the weekend left an abundance of free time, there was only so much to do alone on the island of Patch.

' _All this because of one incident… would've just let him win if I knew it was going to be this much of a pain.'_

Thinking back to the reason why he failed one class, and thus was put into summer school, Reel let a grimace make its way onto his face. The sparring class had started like any other, with students trying their best to break into the top of the rankings. Reel found himself matched against one of the other students who were good enough to actually fight.

-Break-

 _Reel Ashe vs Lan Blank_

 _The two boys stood up with their weapons in hand; one with what looked to be an oversized boomerang in his hand, small sharp protrusions making themselves known as they slid out from either end of the ranged weapon. Reel made a face, fighting people from a long range wasn't his forte; hopefully it wouldn't come to that._

 _The sound of metal links hitting one another could be heards as Reel let his weapon fall to the ground; what looked like an oversized police baton attached to either end of it. The dramatic irony was not wasted on him._

 _At the sound of a siren, the match began. Instantly, the other young man was upon Reel, swinging his weapon like a blade. The clang of metal rang out as it was caught on the chain of Reel's weapon. The other boy's arm shook slightly with exertion before realizing that his surprise attack was going to be ineffective._

 _Quickly disengaging, he decided to use his weapon in the more traditional manner, throwing it at Reel. No doubt, the amount of speed and mass behind the boomerang would give enough of an impact to crash through most student's defenses, this not even counting the injuries that the blades would inflict._

" _Hey, I'm going to end this fast okay?"_

 _And yet, Reel spoke out in an exceedingly arrogant manner._

-Break-

"In the end, I guess it would've been a good idea to just fight and keep my mouth shut huh?" Reel gave a heavy sigh, had anyone else been around, they would have easily been able to make out the regret in his tone.

"At least then I wouldn't be stuck here."

Though he had been arrogant at the time, he hadn't meant to bring things as far as he had. It had mostly been the other party's fault, but it wouldn't have happened if Reel hadn't taunted them. As of now, the only thing to do was to let the past rest.

-Break-

 _The baton at the end of Reel's weapon fared well against the boomerang, deflecting it to the side. It was heavy, but not impossible to redirect where he wanted it to, something that Reel made note of._

 _Reel moved towards the fallen weapon, he wasn't about to let his opponent retrieve it so easily after throwing it at him. Unfortunately, his opponent had other ideas as the sound of a wire being pulled met Reel's ears. The boomerang was pulled back, reaching it's owner in a matter of seconds._

" _Ha, that's great, I was starting to get worried that this would be boring!" Reel grinned, it was only too often that his opponents would keel over after their initial plan failing. Given, the majority of them were inexperienced students, but that was beside the point._

 _Lan however, coldly glared at him as he threw his weapon again._

 _Throw, dodge. Throw, dodge._

 _The process repeated again and again until Reel finally decided on a plan of action. The boomerang soared towards him, but unlike before, it's target didn't dodge. Instead, he held both batons on the end of his weapons in either hand, a translucent material stretched out from each and connected at the center._

" _Take this!" The boomerang impacted the space between the two batons… and stuck! It stretched backwards, pulling the material taut. A few moments later, it was released directly back at Lan._

 _The other boy regarded the counterattack with some no small degree of disdain. Did Reel truly think so little of him that he thought Lan would be unable to catch his own weapon? He raised his hand up to receive it._

" _IDIOT, DODGE!" Seeing Lan's action, Reel's eyes grew wide as he shouted across the arena. Unfortunately for both of them, it was far too late; the boomerang slammed into Lan's hand… and kept on going as it smashed into the wall, producing a terrific crash that had several people flinching._

 _It wasn't enough to drown out Lan's scream._

 _Reel's blood ran cold as he looked at his opponent. The ring that signified the end of the match was barely heard. Lan's arm was… a mess._

 _Blood ran in rivers down the mangled appendage that was being clutched by its owner. Ghastly white bone could be seen sticking out at completely wrong angles. The worst part though, had to be the screaming._

 _It was so loud…_

 _So loud…_

" _AAA-_

AAAAH!" Reel was shocked back into reality by the yelling that he heard coming from the sparring arena in front of him. His feet had done the walking while he thought, not really with a proper destination in mind.

Running forward, Reel pushed the doors open just in time to see a girl: another student, flying across the arena.

"You… You're not cut out to be a huntress." Reel's eyes flew across the arena, catching sight of the other person inside, undoubtedly the one who had sent the girl flying across the arena.

"Oh, nice timing." The older man called out to him. "Hey, blue hair, get her to the infirmary. Tell them that she'll be fine, just needs to be treated for some bruises."

Though he still had no idea who the guy was, the large sword in his hands and the now visible school id card in his hand encouraged Reel not to argue. Without another word, the man unceremoniously walked out of the arena.

"What was that all about…?" He had been bored, but this was a little ridiculous. He glanced over at the other person, unconscious by all means.

"Well… it's not like I can just leave her here."

And so after taking the training sword from the girl's hands and placing it back in the storage room, Reel picked up the girl and left for the infirmary.


End file.
